


Convince Me

by owlsshadows



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempt at Humor, Banter, Boys Kissing, Dialogue Heavy, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, Getting Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Oisuga Week, Snippets, also attempt at hurt/comfort, suga is quippy and oikawa is the idiot he always is, to borrow the words of gilrael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-06-29 21:00:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15737259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlsshadows/pseuds/owlsshadows
Summary: On the surface he’s infuriated – deep down however he enjoys the panicked expression that spreads across Oikawa’s face. He could never beat the Grand King one-on-one, not in a face-off between setters. An off-court Oikawa Tooru, however, he could eat for breakfast.When Oikawa suddenly appears at Karasuno after school to ask Sugawara out, the latter has one condition: Oikawa has to convince him of the sincerity of his feelings.Written for OiSuga Week 2018





	1. After School

“So because of a dispute you had with your ace, you came all over to Karasuno?” Sugawara asks, standing in the hallway connecting the gym to the school facilities.

On the surface he’s infuriated – deep down however he enjoys the panicked expression that spreads across Oikawa’s face. He could never beat the Grand King one-on-one, not in a face-off between setters. But standing outside the gym in the chilly late November afternoon, as two high school kids, Sugawara has the advantage, even if Oikawa is half a head taller. He had his fair share of dealing with troublesome idiots to master his strict, calculating voice that could render Asahi meek and Kageyama docile.

An off-court Oikawa Tooru, he could eat for breakfast.

“You could sum it up like this too, but…” Oikawa starts, losing his drive the moment his eyes meet with Sugawara’s.

“You’re asking me out in order to save face in front of your team, am I right?” Sugawara presses more, a victorious little grin threatening his composed act in the corner of his lips treacherously. “Let me ask you one thing, Oikawa. What do I seem to you?”

Oikawa winces, giving out an ever subtle squealing sound as he searches for reasons to save his argument. From the way he bites his lip in frustration, it is clear that he has realized just how arrogant his initial approach was. He walked in enemy territory like a king, haughtily asking for the audience of the setter of a rival team, only to claim that he was about to take Sugawara out on a date, as Iwaizumi would simply not believe that he had interest in Mr. Refreshing…

It was certainly a terrible idea, but somehow Oikawa left all of his tact back at Aoba Jousai this afternoon.

“I’m asking you out on a date,” he says, hands motioning vaguely between them.

“And? What’s in it for me?” Sugawara asks back sharply. “I get it you came up with some blatant lies in front of your team and now you need to save face, but why would I go along with your plan?”

“It’s not to save face,” Oikawa rebuts, walking up close to Sugawara. “I want for us to date for real.”

“Please don’t expect me to buy your story about your little interest in me. If you were really liking me somehow, you wouldn’t have started your confession with talking about that ace of yours.”

“True, okay, I give in,” Oikawa raises his hand in surrender. “Indeed, I’m only here because my team taunted me about how much of a chicken I’ve become since my last girlfriend dumped me. But!” he raises his voice. “It’s also true that I like you, Mr. Refreshing. And I’m not a coward, I just wanted to make sure that I’m not making a fool out of myself, after all you might have something going on with that pretty manager of yours…”

“Shimizu?” Sugawara asks, lifting a brow in surprise.

“I mean, she was holding your hand during the Shiratorizawa match and all,” Oikawa adds bashfully, and it’s not the November cold that tints his ears red as he continues. “I watched the match, you know, and I’ve been thoroughly impressed by your play in the fifth set.”

“Thanks,” Sugawara deadpans. He himself is not sure whether to smack Oikawa back to normalcy, or to pinch his own cheeks to check whether he’s dreaming. The Oikawa in front of him seems strange, if not surreal. Not that he would not enjoy this if it was a dream, he would even tease the Dream-Oikawa to see how far his subconscious dares to go…

But if this is reality, he is quite unsure how to proceed.

“I mean it!” Oikawa grabs his hands at this point, accidentally scratching Sugawara’s wrists along the way. The pain, though negligible, is real.

“Is that so?” Sugawara asks, shimmying out of the touch.

“Yeah,” Oikawa replies dumbly, hands frozen mid-air. “I find you interesting. Intriguing even.”

“And you think that’s enough to hop on a bus and come here, demanding a date from me just because your friends were teasing you a little?”

Ruthless, Sugawara is, but it wouldn’t be the first time someone pranked him, and he is not willing to believe in Oikawa’s words just yet; not when he remembers still so clear how dejected he got when Yoshida from the soccer club revealed that he only asked him out on a date to gain advantage over the volleyball club in the sports festival team relay.

Plus, he didn’t even particularly fancy Yoshida.

Not quite how he fancies Oikawa anyway.

It’s not only his pride, but his heart at stake. He’s not willing to give in to this surreal scene, not when it’s not a dream he could rewrite as many times as he wanted.

Not when the boy he has a crush on stands in front of him with a forlorn, lost expression, with his idiotic cowlicks framing his stupid pretty face.

“I’m sorry,” Oikawa says then, bowing deeply.

It’s the third time he manages to surprise Sugawara this day – starting with his first appearance, followed by his sudden confession, and now he bows so deep Sugawara could kick him in the face with his knee.

For a split second he actually considers it.

Then Oikawa opens his mouth again.

“Please, allow me to start again from the beginning.”

It’s not even the thing he says, or the tone he says it… it’s that vibrant red that started off his ears and now creeps down his neck. It’s adorable and Sugawara is weak.

“Alright,” he says, pulling his shoulders up in an exaggerated shrug. “But don’t think I will forget about how arrogant you were.”

Oikawa, still bowing, tilts his head, glancing up from between his fringe. His eyes glimmer with something akin joy, challenge, hope.

Sugawara needs to harden his defenses not to fall for the bastard on spot.

“Sugawara Koushi,” Oikawa starts, “I’ve taken a liking to you. Would you go out with me?”

“Not necessarily,” Sugawara squints. “I mean, would _you_ believe if you were the average guy, and suddenly got confessed to by Oikawa Tooru?”

“I can hardly imagine confessing to myself,” Oikawa complains, inciting a hearty laugh from Sugawara.

“Even though you seem to love yourself more than anyone else…”

“I tend to have a misleading attitude,” he admits, motioning vaguely around himself. “I mean, yes, that’s me too, but it’s more like… my social persona? And then there’s me, failing big time in this confession now…”

“Indeed,” Sugawara nods, circling Oikawa with lazy steps, until he is backed against the corridor wall. Sugawara crosses his arms, tilting his head back just so to look straight into the eyes of the superstar setter. Oikawa gulps, looking amply bewildered. “You’re not very convincing.”

“Ugh,” Oikawa groans, scratching the wall beside him. He looks like some wild animal, cornered, eyes filled with something dangerous.

Oikawa Tooru, a boy childish enough to make a tug of war out of a simple situation where he reached for a ball at the same time as his fated kouhai… he’s not the one to give up or give in easily, certainly not when on the court, but possibly off court either. And Sugawara feels fired up by the shine in his eyes, fueled to go a bit further, provoke him a little more.

“Look, you don’t have to believe in me,” Oikawa starts.

“But I want to,” Sugawara cuts in. _Hit it until it breaks_ , he remembers, smile spreading slowly across his face. “I want to believe you, Oikawa. It’s you who’s not trying very hard at making me believe. What gave you the impression that I will go along with your little plan, if you yourself didn’t have the resolve to try to convince me?”

“I…” Oikawa starts, embarrassment flushing across his face. “I’m not saying that I’m head over heels in love with you or anything. I just say that I find you to be a really interesting guy, and I would like to get to know you better…”

“But your feelings are wishy-washy, aren’t they?” Sugawara asks, inching closer, until his elbows dig into the sides of Oikawa. “You won’t get all heartbroken if I reject you now, will you?”

“Look,” Oikawa replies, this time clearly defensive, pushing his arms just against the elbows of Sugawara. His eyes narrow, his pretty face scrunches, tiny wrinkles appear across his nose and Sugawara makes a mental note to himself that they are adorable. “You caught my eye, but precisely because I couldn’t take my eyes off of you, I’ve seen your manager holding your hand, and because you could be in a relationship, I was trying my best to refrain from falling in love.”

“Respectable self-control,” Sugawara mocks him.

“So. Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“In a relationship.”

“With Shimizu?”

“With anyone!” Oikawa snaps, and when he catches Sugawara’s smile, he adds: “God, you’re infuriating!”

“Thanks,” Sugawara smirks. “And no. I’m not in a relationship.”

“Good.”

“Is it?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“No, I’m really interested now. Thanks to the teasing of your friends you are here after all, so why don’t you tell me how your feelings would change after getting to know that I’m sexy free and single?”

Sugawara somewhat expects Oikawa to recoil or at least cringe at the shady wink accompanies to his words – but never in his wildest dreams would’ve he fantasized about Oikawa visibly deflating and melting into the wall with a soft sigh, as he does in real life upon seeing that awkward wink of Sugawara’s.

“You’re so not cute,” Oikawa chuckles, eyes shining as he glances at Sugawara. “Dork,” he adds adoringly, and Sugawara’s defenses crumble as if they were thoroughly undermined.

“I thought I was refreshing?” he asks, tone mocking but heart in his throat, trying hard to regain his inner composure.

Oikawa replies with a laugh, lifting his hand to Sugawara’s face and brushing over his birth mark.

“Such a pretty dork,” he repeats. “I really like you.”

Sugawara takes a sharp inhale, unfolding his arms to shoo away Oikawa’s hand from his face.

He might have found Oikawa’s serving form beautiful. He might have even found his stupidly pretty face charming.

But gosh, no one could prepare him for a confession like this.

“Yeah. Great,” Sugawara says, blinking away his awe. “Prove it.”

“Will you go out with me then?” Oikawa asks with a renewed fire in his eyes that sends chills down Sugawara’s spine, chills that are not quite unpleasant.

“If you convince me.”

“I will.”


	2. Fortune

Walking beside his friends on New Year’s and listening to their bickering, Sugawara finds his inner peace – hushing, if temporarily, the slight guilt he has developed over the past few weeks.

He didn’t tell them a thing about Oikawa.

There have always been things he didn’t talk to them about. For one, he kept his insecurities from them after Kageyama replaced him as the team’s number one setter. Asahi and Daichi knew, still, without him telling a thing. They understood his wishes, his fears, his hopes. They were not overbearing, and never showed pity. They just worked hard on their own, getting further and further, clearing a path and making a chance for Sugawara to improve and to return to the court.

But there, those things have always been things his friends knew about, he was just too fragile to put them into words. On the other hand, neither Asahi, nor Daichi could have any idea about his latest endeavors.

No matter how he tries to twist it, he is pseudo-dating Oikawa Tooru. He’s not sure how his friends would take if they knew he spent the day after Christmas in a coffee shop, looking dreamily at Oikawa’s fingers playing with a straw. Because even if he denied Oikawa his ambitious Christmas eve date and left him hanging for Christmas in general, damn, he was enjoying himself in Oikawa’s company, more than he would’ve ever wanted to admit.

Oikawa is a natural. He talks smooth, moves smooth, even blinks smooth, fluttering his lashes just so. It’s unfair just how attractive he is. With a hint of clumsiness here and there, he’s charming as ever.

He makes Suga laugh.

And Suga can’t talk about him to anyone.

So he parts heavy-hearted from Asahi, Daichi and Shimuzu after their visit to the temple, sinking his hands deep into the pockets of his coat, hiding his face behind the protection of his scarf, occasionally huffing out a white cloud of air on his way home.

He walks slowly, chewing on his inability to figure out the mystery that is Oikawa Tooru’s crush on him. It would be so much easier if only he could confide in his friends… but what would they say. Oikawa, of all people?

_They would say you have great taste_ , says a voice in his head, too close and too intimate for something to sound undoubtedly like it belongs to Oikawa.

He feels that he’s walking in circles, as his feet take him further and further from the temple on the crowded main street, people of all ages surrounding him. He feels he’s going nowhere, feet touching ground heavily, ice crackling under his weight.

He stops at the pedestrian crossing, staring up at the sky gloomily. It wouldn’t be _that_ bad, if it worked out for the two of them, he thinks. Not bad at all…

He loses his sense of time, watching the ever grey sky.

He thinks about the absurdity of his situation – how Oikawa’s ears are dusted pink upon seeing him and how he can’t help but laugh at his jokes, how he made up his mind not to fall for Oikawa, and how he seems to be failing big time. For Oikawa to be interested in him… to ask him out again and again, to have little date plans in his head, it all sounds so absurd. He doesn’t want to get hurt again. He doesn’t want to fall into some deliberate joke, to become the laughing stock at the end.

Yet, he falls for it.

He drowns in his thoughts, self-doubt slowly eating up his core.

By the time he pays attention to the boy walking towards him across the crossing, he is close enough to see the thick black frames of Oikawa’s glasses, sitting pompously over his perfectly shaped nose.

“Oh,” says the setter genius, honest surprise in his voice.

“Hey,” Sugawara manages. He lets his eyes wander, taking it all in.

The phenomenon going by the name Oikawa Tooru is spectacular. He looks perfect in his navy coat and black pants. He looks perfect anyway. His height, his form, his bashful little smile, his cheeks reflecting the warmth of the red scarf wrapped around his neck – it all looks so endearing.

Sugawara tries, and fails to reach his determination not to fall for this handsome idiot. It dissolves into thin air the moment Oikawa steps closer.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Oikawa greets him, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Shrine visit?”

“We went with all the third years from the club,” Sugawara replies, thankful for his extensive experience in nonchalant small talk which helps him carry on the conversation, even as his brain sounds all kinds of alarms to abort the mission his heart is about to launch itself into. “How about you?”

“Iwa-chan ditched me,” Oikawa pouts, his pretty lips puckered. “For food. And the warmth of a kotatsu.”

“How vile.”

“So I thought, he can eat all the rice cakes he wants and get fat alone. I will still come and visit the shrine.”

“I see.”

“But it would’ve been lame, you know, to visit the close by shine where I might meet some people from the club. I don’t want them to know that I was forced to visit alone after all. And… you know, since this shrine is just a fifteen minutes bus ride away, and close to your house as well, I thought… well.”

“Well?” Sugawara pries.

Oikawa glances away embarrassed, pulling his scarf into his blushing face.

“A chance meeting wouldn’t be so bad,” he murmurs.

And here comes the catch. Oikawa, to prove that he is serious about his feelings and to win Suga over, is honest. Entirely, sometimes even brutally honest. Whatever he thinks, he says it out loud, letting Sugawara know. And Sugawara, he falls for it, his resolve shattering every time.

“So, is this not so bad now?” he asks.

“Well. I mean. You’ve already visited the shrine.”

“I can go again,” Sugawara offers, inwardly cursing himself for his weakness.

Yet, the way Oikawa beams at him, flashing a wide, hopeful smile, he can’t deny, he feels thoroughly convinced. Oikawa seems sincerely happy. He seems… truly interested in someone like Sugawara.

He lets Oikawa take his hand and pull him back to the shrine.

“Let’s draw our fortunes!” Oikawa says.

“I’ve already drawn my fortune,” Sugawara replies.

“You can draw another one!” Oikawa rebuts. “A fortune for the two of us,” he continues in a tone that would make Sugawara’s fingers crawl into a fist, if they were not already held by Oikawa.

“I hope you know that you’re insufferable,” Sugawara says, met with a boisterous laugh.

“Come on, Mr. Refreshing, what bad could come out of going along with me?”

“I wonder?”

“Don’t be so tough on me,” Oikawa says.

“I’m not,” Sugawara replies. “If I were, I wouldn’t have offered to come back with you. I wouldn’t have let you to hold my hand,” he continues, lifting their interlinked fingers up to eye level.

For a split second Oikawa turns deep red, before he would squeeze on their fingers.

“But aren’t you glad you did?” he asks.

Sugawara blinks at him, lost for words. Oikawa takes his silence as agreement, lowering their hands between them and tugging Suga deeper into the crowd.

“Come on,” he nudges. “Let our fortune convince you that this is not a bad idea at all.”

“By this you mean?”

“Dating me, of course.”

“And what if you draw terrible luck?” Sugawara asks, slowing Oikawa in his pace.

They stop in front of a small stall selling sweets, the sugary scent of the candies washing over them. Oikawa takes his time to turn and face Sugawara, enclosing both of his hands in his.

He looks at Sugawara dead on, with a deep lurking fire to his stare that sends chills down Sugawara’s spine.

“Terrible luck is my norm,” he says. “If something can go wrong around me, it will, without fail. I’ve gotten used to it already. Bad fortune can’t break me. It only means that I have to work harder for my goals.”

Sugawara holds his gaze as he feels Oikawa’s fingers tighten once again around his. What Oikawa says doesn’t surprise him – it encapsulates what he already knows of him.

He is diligent, thorough, determined.

Maybe, challenging him was not the wisest of Sugawara’s ideas.

Yet, if anything, Sugawara’s persistent and stubborn – even if he’s wrong.

“How is your luck?”

“I can’t remember a time when I drew better than small blessing,” Oikawa laughs, shaking his head.

“Then why do you want to draw fortunes so much?”

“Don’t you feel your resolve to grow stronger when facing an adversary?”

“Shouldn’t I be that for you know?”

“Oh no,” Oikawa says. “I would only call you my rival on court. Right now, you are my goal.”

Lifting Sugawara’s hands to his lips, he blows a peck over his fingers.

“The only thing I’m afraid of is that you have a change of heart and decide that you will no longer put up with me. But knowing that even fate is against me might give me the bravery I need.”

A fervent blush burns Sugawara’s face as he unfolds his hands of Oikawa’s hold, embarrassedly pocketing them.

He senses the dejection on Oikawa’s face – and it hurts, because he doesn’t want to reject him, because he wants to hold his hand, because he wants to kiss that stupid perfect face and most of all, because he wants to trust Oikawa.

But he’s too afraid to believe in it, even if it’s right within reach.

“Let’s go,” he murmurs then, walking ahead towards the omikuji box.

“Alright,” Oikawa says in reply, matching his pace to Sugawara’s.

They walk in silence. Queue in silence. Reach for the box in silence.

Oikawa’s movements are delicate as he pulls out his fortune, his face serene, like some art piece or how the air stills before a storm.

Sugawara wishes he never pulled away his hand, for he wishes to hold Oikawa’s now more than anything. He wishes he was not so defensive and distrustful

– and curses Yoshida of the soccer club, who realized his vanity and played him

– and he curses himself for falling for it, no matter how flattering it felt to receive someone’s affections.

He challenged Oikawa to prove the sincerity of his feelings, but honestly, haven’t he already lost if all he wishes is to be able to trust him?

Who is he to decide whether Oikawa’s feelings are worthy? What does ‘worthy’ mean actually? Isn’t he the biggest hypocrite of all?

No matter what feelings one had at the starting point, it’s the effort he puts in that matters.

Sugawara frees his hand from his pocket, placing it softly over Oikawa’s.

Oikawa jumps a little at the touch, surprised, looking at Sugawara bewildered.

“Let’s walk away from the crowd a little and open them together,” Sugawara says.

Scrutinizing is an understatement to describe the look in Oikawa’s eyes as he scans Sugawara, looking for signs, any signs, that may give him hope of grief.

Sugawara, on the other hand, schools his expression well, not letting a hint slip through his mask of composure. The decision he arrived to mellows if not nullifies their challenge entirely. But he’s not yet ready to share his findings with Oikawa.

They walk up to a bench further away from the crowd, plopping down beside each other. Sugawara unfolds his fortune in harmony with Oikawa, glancing at the first letters to appear with newfound concern.

The paper rustles between his fingers, unveiling a not-so-favorable result.

“It’s bad luck for me,” Sugawara says, holding up his paper for Oikawa to see.

Oikawa goes unnaturally silent. With slightly trembling hands he turns his paper to show it before saying a word.

“It’s great blessing,” Sugawara reads. “It seems that fate doesn’t really want to become your adversary after all.”

The smile that spreads across Oikawa’s face is small, childlike, almost pure.

“For the first time in my life, I hope it comes true,” Oikawa says.

Sugawara can’t help but grin at this. It’s strange how he wants to root for Oikawa, even if the key to Oikawa’s success is entirely in his hands.

He could hand it over now. He could plant a peck on his temple. He could reach out and mess up his ridiculously perfect hair.

He could just admit to liking Oikawa back.

If only he was not so afraid to get hurt again.

He sighs.


	3. Infirmary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this on the bus to work today... so yeah. Enjoy!
> 
> English is not my mother tongue, so please bear with the occasional awkward phrasing!

It has been on Sugawara’s mind on the day before, when he suspiciously agreed to Oikawa's suggestion to meet after practice.

He was repeatedly reminded of it during the day too – his classmates chirping excitedly, his teammates guessing who got the most chocolate (Tsukishima, surprisingly).

Yet, by the time he enters the infirmary with a nose-bleeding Hinata in tow, his thoughts are so focused on the task at hand that he generously forgets the fact –

– it's Valentine's.

Sugawara concentrates on pushing another fistful of paper towels into Hinata’s hand before he roams across the room. No school nurse in sight, he opens a drawer, rummaging through a selection of band aids to find the cotton wool to tamponade the nose of his team’s red haired baby bird. Hinata sits on a chair, perching up in excitement, as if getting smashed in the face and then leaving a bloody trail after him all across the school didn't have any effect on him – and he talks, voice nasal and words garbled, about how his receives will be an asset to the team by the time of the Nationals.

“Next time you should consider your safety first,” Sugawara hears himself, nagging. “No one wants you injured. And don't forget the psychological effects on Asahi. He thought he killed you back there.”

“I'm fine,” Hinata assures, lifting a hand full of blood soaked tissues to perform a shabby thumbs up.

“How could he spike at his full power if he's afraid of hurting you?” Sugawara argues, lifting Hinata’s head up and around. “Good. It seems the bleeding has stopped.”

“Can I return to practice now, Senpai?”

“Do you feel dizzy?”

“A little,” Hinata admits, taking a sip.

“Okay. Wait a bit then. I want the nurse to take a look at you. It would be bad if you had concussion and we didn't treat it well,” he says, and he walks up to the water tank in the corner of the room to pour a glass. “Here. Drink a bit of water until she arrives.”

As Hinata nods, little shaky, Sugawara searches the pocket of his jacket for his phone. He types in a short message in their group chat with Asahi and Daichi to tell them that he will wait for the nurse with Hinata.

“It's getting dark outside,” he hears Hinata saying.

 _It’s late anyways_ , Sugawara continues typing, _you may go ahead us_.

“I’m not even sure whether the school nurse is still in at this time,” he scratches his head nervously. “It might be better to visit a clinic.”

“I’m really fine,” Hinata says jumping up, only to groan painfully a second later.

“You’re really not,” Suga pushes the first year back on the chair. “I think Coach Ukai has a car. He might be able to take us to see a nearby doctor–”

At this point, his phone starts ringing. He fishes it out of his pocket, glancing at the screen for the caller’s name shortly. His stomach sinks at the sight of familiar syllables. Hinata’s presence alone supplies him with ample motivation to turn down the call immediately. Yet, he lets it ring out a few seconds, mindless, waiting for something, someone to make him move.

“You’re not taking it?” Hinata asks.

“Ah, yes,” he replies numb, pressing down the green button automatically. He knows it was a bad decision the moment he lifts the device to his ear.

“I’m waiting for you~” Oikawa sing-songs into the speaker.

“I’m sorry,” Sugawara replies immediately, hoping that the sound is faint enough for Hinata not to recognize the voice on the other end. “I’m at the infirmary. It will take a bit longer than I expected –”

The call ends abruptly, leaving Sugawara alone with the silence but for Hinata’s soft humming. Taken aback, Sugawara is between calling back and hiding his phone in a place he can’t possibly reach it again.

To regain his composure – oh, whom he is kidding, he never had such, but at least to look the reliable senpai Hinata thinks him to be, Sugawara turns back to the cabinets to look for anything that may be useful if Hinata really has a concussion.

Not that Sugawara is well versed on concussions – not yet at least. But as someone aspiring to become a doctor one day, Sugawara is extremely interested in anything health related, so he did read some articles on concussions before… Bed rest, fluids, a mild pain reliever…

“Do you feel nauseous?” he asks with back to Hinata, opening a vitrine of non-prescription medicine. “Does your head hurt?”

“Not really,” Hinata replies. “I think I’m fine–”

Sugawara lets out a short, relieved sigh, turning back to Hinata.

“I will still call Coach Ukai, just to make sure,” he says. “And, no going back to practice anymore. It’s late anyway–”

With a loud bang, the door to the infirmary opens.

“Suga-chan!” Oikawa shouts, face red and panicked, hair, for once, is all messed up as he frantically runs his hands through it. “You alright?”

“Yes,” Sugawara says, stunned.

“Are you sure? Not injured anywhere?”

“No. It was Hinata, who got a nosebleed during practice and I accompanied him here,” Sugawara starts his explanation, when it kicks. “Wait, what are you doing here, Oikawa?”

“I came for you.”

“Yeah, I can see, but this is the school building. Other than for practice matches, students from other schools are not authorized–”

“I thought you were injured, ok?!” Oikawa huffs, seemingly out of breath.

Sugawara can’t fight back the blush budding on his cheeks.

“How did you know where to go anyway?” he asks, voice a pitch too high.

“I asked!” Oikawa replies as if it was something natural. Something self-explanatory. A student from another school marching in Karasuno looking all shades of panicked, asking for directions.

“Whom?”

“That blond coach of yours, he was smoking outside.”

“And he– helped you?” Sugawara asks back unbelieving.

“Well– I’m here.”

“Yes you are.”

“So– you fine?” Oikawa asks, hesitant, squinting up from behind his long bangs.

“Yeah.”

“Good,” Oikawa says. He grins ever so slightly, almost bashfully. He looks so absurd with his hair in a mess, with a crooked little smile on his face –

Sugawara’s heart throbs painfully. He takes a step, tentative, probing the distance between them.

Oikawa looks at him. His eyes shine warmly, truly, adorably. He opens his mouth and his smile turns into a sigh, short, but relieved, followed by an even wider grin. One of his hands find his hair again, brushing it back in place, ridiculous cowlicks falling effortlessly around his perfect stupid face, crowning his beauty.

Sugawara takes another step, more sure. His heart flies, beats in a rhythm too fast and hurried for its own good. It feels as if a quarrel of sparrows fluttered across his chest, sending a breezy shake through his body.

“Yeah,” he says, because he has nothing else to say, because Oikawa was worried for him, because Oikawa ran for him, because Oikawa was ready to make an entire fool out of himself for him… because the Oikawa of this moment is the most adorable creature he has ever seen.

“Yeah,” Oikawa breathes, retreating back to the wall until Sugawara stands right in front of him, pinning him against the tiles with his gaze alone.

“I think I may be convinced,” Sugawara whispers. Oikawa gulps, the skin on his chin, right at eye level for Sugawara, flexing from the movement. “I– yeah. I think I believe you.”

“You do?” Oikawa asks, voice barely a flutter of air on Suga’s forehead.

“Yeah. Maybe. I do,” Sugawara says, pushing himself up on his tiptoes to press a peck on the cheek of Oikawa. “Thank you.”

“I– you’re– welcome?” Oikawa asks, blushing deep and confused.

An involuntary smile spreads across Sugawara’s face, leaning close again, baring his teeth teasingly for Oikawa to see before he closes his lips on Oikawa’s nose.

It’s cold.

He must have really waited outside for some time.

It warms Sugawara’s heart and he reaches out for Oikawa’s hand to weave his fingers between his.

“Dork,” Sugawara says fondly.

“Suga-senpai, you date the Grand King?” Hinata chirps suddenly, surprising Sugawara.

For a split moment he forgot that they were not alone.

For a split moment his heart stops beating, blood freezing in his veins as he turns, slowly, to look at the first year still sitting on the chair where he left him.

“I– do?” he squeaks, voice so high he could mimic a soprano in the opera.

Hinata, on the other hand, looks at him with sparkly eyes the size of saucers.

“That’s so cool!” he squeals. “He can teach us his killer serves!”

“And here I thought we were in trouble for a second,” Sugawara hears Oikawa’s murmur right beside his ear, feels Oikawa’s breath on his neck, the weight of Oikawa’s arms weighing down on his shoulders. “Everything’s possible, Chibi-chan. I can show you the trick to my killer serve. I won’t teach Tobio though.”

“So cool!” Hinata shouts again, jumping up from his seat, flailing excitedly, waving around his blood-soaked tissues.

“Hinata, you shouldn’t make any sudden movements,” Sugawara says, stepping away from Oikawa to take the tissues away from Hinata and throw them out. “Let me call Coach Ukai here, we’re taking you to see a doctor.”

“We?” he hears Oikawa’s comment, murmured in a voice so low only he could hear. He decides to ignore it, but he tugs on Oikawa’s coat in passing.

He opens the door of the infirmary, pulling his phone out of his pocket again.

He doesn’t need to make another call, however, as on the corridor, he spots the coach, followed shortly by Daichi, Asahi, Kageyama and maybe the whole team appearing from behind a corner.

“Sugawara!” Ukai calls out to him.

“Yes!”

“How’s Hinata?”

“Good! The bleeding stopped. He said he’s a little dizzy though, so I thought it would be better if a doctor was to see him,” Sugawara summarizes the situation as the coach reaches him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Good work,” Ukai says. “I’ll take it from here. You are free to go home.”

“Yes.”

“Regarding your friend,” Ukai leans closer, toning his voice down. “It would be the best if we all didn’t see him. It’s not advisable to break the rules.”

As Sugawara’s eyes meet Ukai’s, he bets he sees a small wink before the blond man pulls Hinata out of the infirmary.

“Look, he’s all good,” Ukai announces to the team. “I’m taking Hinata to a doctor for a routine checkup. Everyone’s free to go for today. You’re released. Be careful on the way home!”

“Yessir!” the team echoes. Sugawara nods, hand resting on the door of the infirmary.

“Suga, you’re not coming?” Asahi asks him as he turns back towards the room.

“I– uh– have left something inside.

“We can wait,” Daichi offers, only to be cut off by Sugawara.

“Go home ahead of me. See you tomorrow!” he says, entering the infirmary and shutting the door behind him firmly.

 Oikawa emerges from his hide-away behind the door, looking all smug.

“So,” he whispers, probing the zipper in the front of Sugawara’s jacket. “I take my interest is– mutual?”

“It might be,” Sugawara says, as he backs into the door, the handle poking into his side painfully.

“Why?” Oikawa asks. His hand drops the zipper, and his finger trails up along the zip line arriving at his sternum.

Sugawara feels equal times aroused and mortified. He gulps, but his throat goes dry beyond repair.

“Well, you are –” he croaks.

“I am?” Oikawa presses, one finger against the wildly beating heart of Sugawara.

Oh, and he thought he could easily deal with him off court. He thought he was prepared, hardened in dealing with his troublesome underclassmen.

Looking into the deep fire in Oikawa’s eyes, troublesome is an understatement.

He’s outrageous. Appealing.

Sugawara, before realizing his calling for the medical field, had many dreams – of becoming an astronaut, a commander of the army, a hero in battle. His goals may have changed since then, but his tactics didn’t.

And he believes that the best defense is a good offense.

So he leans in, nose grazing nose, lids half-mast and lips loose, a faint smile playing in the corner of his mouth.

“You’re adorable,” he laughs, teasing his lips against Oikawa’s. “Kissable too.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Oikawa smirks, lips brushing against Sugawara’s skin. “Kiss me already.”

“Or what?” Sugawara teases, dragging Oikawa down to his eye level.

“Or you don’t get chocolate.”

“Oh no, you got me chocolates on Valentine’s?” Suga asks, once again reminded of the date.

“I love you, after all.”


	4. Summer Festival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time skip to June, same year. Oikawa and Sugawara have graduated, and they go to the same university. Oikawa studies physical education, Sugawara learns to become a doctor.
> 
> I have a hectic week behind me, so I'm a bit late with this, sorry!^^"

“Buy me a candy apple,” Oikawa says.

He doesn’t use any sing-song in his voice, no fluttering eyelashes, not even a stupidly dashing smile.

He doesn’t need to.

His flat tone, accompanied by his bored look should be at least a little disheartening. Still, he looks so stunning in his yukata, with a festival mask on top of his head, like someone who’s freshly stepping out of a commercial or some drama – and Sugawara’s poor heart can barely take it. It’s hard enough, the life of a freshman med student, even without the burden that a beautiful boyfriend is. Sleep-deprived and dragged to a summer festival against his will, it takes everything within him not to take Oikawa by the hand and pull him back to the dormitory to the softness of his bed. He would even help Oikawa to wrap him out of his yukata. Gladly.

Yet, he suffers. Because there are certain moments that it’s just impossible to say no to Oikawa. Because, in fact, most moments are like this.

“Ugh,” Sugawara shrugs, looking at Oikawa with mild disgust on his face. “And then take you to the dentist if you break a tooth?”

“Don’t make it sound as if I were the weird one,” Oikawa pouts. “I’ve never met anyone who hated apples before.”

“Here I am,” Sugawara says. “They are sour. And the skin is too waxy. And the texture is just so weirdly crispy. It gives me the chills.”

“If you say so,” Oikawa nods. “You don’t have to eat it. Just buy me one.”

“You promise you won’t break a tooth?” Sugawara asks, honest worry in his tone.

“I’ve never had any issues with my teeth, Suga-chan. Not even cavity,” Oikawa laughs, pulling Sugawara in a half hug. “Anyway, you’re not studying to become a dentist, so you don’t need to worry too much for my teeth.”

“Sorry but I do worry,” Sugawara mumbles into Oikawa’s arm, pushing at it softly, wiggling himself into a more comfortable position while still maintaining contact. “It doesn’t matter if it’s your teeth or your heart or your knee.”

He feels Oikawa’s hold to go rigid at the mention of his knee – the knee that needs special attention, that comes back at the worst moments to remind Oikawa that he is, after all, a mere human. The knee that makes Sugawara consider specializing in orthopedics.

He squeezes his boyfriend’s shoulder reassuringly.

“Call it the eagerness of a med student, I can’t help it. It’s your health and I care,” he says.

A fresh blush blooms on Oikawa’s face. He says nothing, but his eyes widen, his nostrils flare up with the big breath he takes and he bites down on his lower lip. Sugawara has been dating Oikawa for enough time now – little more than half a year, if he counts it from the very beginning when Oikawa first asked him out – to know what this means.

Oikawa’s trying to suppress a squeal.

This level of cute should be illegal especially for someone Oikawa’s height, Sugawara thinks powerless.

“Okay. You get your apple,” he says before he could stop himself, common sense dying at the altar of Oikawa’s charm.

Sugawara shakes his head softly and reaching for Oikawa’s hand he starts to pull his boyfriend. The edges Oikawa’s lips curl up; his eyes relax back to a half-mast.

“Even if you worry for my health?” he teases but his voice is full of adoration and the look in his eyes, against all his efforts, looks more sappy than smoldering.

“You want it, no?” Sugawara says, eyes scanning their environment, searching intently for a stall selling the candy. In the cavalcade of people and colorful little booths standing in a slightly disorderly line, Sugawara relies on his sharper than average eyes to read the signs. He sees places selling cotton candy, corn, choco bananas, sweet little tarts, takoyaki, ramen… and then he spots it, towards the farthermost stalls, the sign that’s undoubtedly apple-shaped.

“This damn thing is getting more and more expensive every year,” he murmurs, mostly to himself. Still, Oikawa seems to have heard it, for he is pausing in his steps.

“You don’t have to, if you hate it so much.”

“You want it, no?” Sugawara repeats, this time staring straight back at his boyfriend.

Oikawa’s cheeks turn pink again. His eyes, warm and clear, reflect the colors of the small paper lanterns around them.

“I do.”

“If you feel bad, you can pay me back by buying takoyaki later,” Sugawara flashes a wide smile, bumping the yukata wearing idiot in the shoulder.

“I don’t feel bad,” Oikawa argues rubbing his shoulder as if he’s really hurt.

“Good. You’ll still buy takoyaki I hope?” Sugawara asks back, winking – and it’s weird because he knows that his winks are not the greatest, they are slightly crooked and sometimes he even winks with both eyes accidentally; but it has an effect on Oikawa that beats everything else.

The taller boy melts and whimpers as he leans into the side of Sugawara, burying his face in Sugawara’s hair. He twists their interlinked hands, entwining his fingers between Sugawara’s and pressing their palms flash against each other.

Despite their difference in height, their hands are almost the same size, fitting perfectly together. While Sugawara’s is warm and a little dry, Oikawa’s is sweaty. Sugawara found it strange at first – for the always impeccable Oikawa to have sweaty hands. Later, he found it just convenient. That little stickiness he had to his hand made holding them all the better.

And now, Sugawara can’t get enough of it.

Holding those hands that can send a ball flying with such velocity that leaves even the enemy team in awe, unable to touch his serve – and being held by them in such a soft, delicate way makes his heart pound loud in his chest.

For Oikawa to fall for him is a mystery he may never come to understand. But he can’t say thanks enough to his own past self, who, contrary to all his insecurities and doubts, still gave Oikawa a chance. That one past Sugawara who challenged Oikawa to convince him of the sincerity of his intentions may just have made the best decision in the entirety of Sugawara’s life.

“I will get you the best takoyaki in town,” Oikawa replies way belated, humming into Sugawara’s ear before pressing his lips to Sugawara’s temple. “I swear.”

“Good. I wouldn’t settle for any mediocre food.”

“I know just this place; they have a stall set up here as well.”

“I believe you,” Sugawara hums, tone teasing.

“Did I ever disappoint?” Oikawa asks back, playing hurt in his pride, raising his free hand to place it theatrically over his heart.

“Well, there was a time I was sure you were suave…”

“You’re implying I’m not.”

“Tooru, I hate to break it to you…”

“Suga-chan, you’re so mean! I thought you love me.”

“I do.”

“Hah! Who would believe you now?” Oikawa turns away, pulling his hand out of Sugawara’s hold with feigned anger.

Sugawara stops him mid-movement, grasping his hand hard and pulling it up to his lips to breathe a kiss on it.

“You?” he asks.

Oikawa’s reply is some indecipherable mumbling, out of which the only words Sugawara catches are “embarrassing” and “idiot”.

It makes Sugawara grin shortly, before he leans up to hook the festival mask off of Oikawa’s head. He uses it as a shield hiding them from the festival crowd as he raises to his tiptoes to press a kiss on the lips of Oikawa.

“Damn you,” Oikawa says. “You can’t even imagine how long I’ve been wanting to kiss you, and now you beat me to it.”

“At least something I win,” Sugawara replies. “Though you have to know it has been really hard on me too, resisting to drag you back to the flat as soon as I saw you all togged up.”

“Yeah,” Oikawa says, lids already half closed as he leans down for another kiss. “You certainly could have kissed me before, you know.”

“Now, you’re the one who’s complaining? I’ve been dragged out on my day off, to do what?”

“Get me a candy apple.”

“Apples are atrocious.”

“So is your social life since uni started,” Oikawa remarks, grabbing Sugawara by the hand and marching confidently over to the stall with the apple sign. “That’s why I decided to drag you out.”

“You can’t really call a date socializing,” Sugawara argues. “Especially if we could just hang out in the dorms. Watch a movie. Order some food.”

“It’s not a date,” Oikawa shakes his head, pulling Sugawara past the stall where candy apples are sold to arrive at a small, familiar sign standing before the next booth.

It’s of the restaurant Tanaka’s sister, Saeko works at.

“You can’t have…” Sugawara starts, before someone throws themselves against him at full speed.

“Suga-saaan!” comes an excited shriek from stomach level in a voice that’s undoubtedly Nishinoya’s.

From behind the stall, his fellow Karasuno members line out all in a bunch – Hinata jumps high in the air yelling his name, Daichi and Asahi comes at him with arms open for a hug. Kageyama and Tsukishima appear to be bickering over something, only stopping their argument for the sake of greeting him. Tanaka, Ennoshita, Kinoshita and Narita start singing. Yamaguchi and Yachi come out carrying a cake. Lastly, Kiyoko and Saeko appears pushing a small rolling table with knife, forks and plates on it.

Sugawara stands in awe under the pile of Karasuno kids, hugging and squeezing the air out of him. In the crushing hold of all five now third year players he can barely turn his head, but Oikawa still catches his glance, rose dusting his face in an instant.

His voice gets lost in the cacophony of Hinata, Noya and Tanaka speaking over each other, Kageyama shouting something at Tsukishima, Daichi’s attempt to pacify them, and the crackling of the first fireworks starting to bloom on the dusty gray sky.

He can still read the words from Oikawa’s lips, red and plump: “Happy birthday”.


	5. Fast Food

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enter Iwaizumi!!!!!
> 
> Ahhhh.... I may have spent a little too much detail on Iwa-chan's arms?

The July heat finds Sugawara in a bus stop in the outskirts of Sendai. His hair sticks to his forehead, temple and neck from the sweat, his T-shirt feels wet under his backpack. The air he breathes in feels like fire on his lungs.

His companion doesn’t seem to be bothered by the heat at all – with his sleeves rolled up to his suntanned shoulders, he stands comfortably, if not a bit suspicious.

“You said you want to discuss something related to Shittykawa,” he barks.

“Yes, it’s about Tooru,” Sugawara replies, swiping his forehead clean of sweat with the back of his hand. He feels awkward under the scrutinizing look of the other, but he stands his ground, holding eye contact.

“Alright,” Iwaizumi says after a few seconds and he flashes a warm smile. “How about going to WacDonalds? I guess you could use some air conditioning.”

“Sounds good,” Sugawara agrees way too fast. He doesn’t want to seem too eager. He wishes to retain at least a speck of his dignity, even in his full glory he would be nothing compared to his companion.

Iwaizumi Hajime has unparalleled natural charm, muscles, thick, dark hair, a dashing smile… Sugawara’s thankful to all gods out there for Oikawa to fall for him when he had such a god-tier childhood friend right by his side all his life.

As he follows Iwaizumi down the road, he can’t help but steal glances at the arms of the former ace of Aoba Jousai, imagining what kind of things he would be capable of if he had such assets. Not that Sugawara is weak – he can lift his boyfriend just fine when he really wants to – but picking up Oikawa effortlessly wherever and whenever he wants to doesn’t sound half bad. He could carry him across the dorms, the campus, the town… the possibilities are endless.

Should he have muscles like Iwaizumi’s, maybe even his speeches would be more effective – though he’s afraid that his tendency to hit his friends out of affection would benefit negatively of the sudden muscle development.

The mental image of punching Daichi in the back to boost his morale, and accidentally sending him flying crashes his brain for a moment, and he can’t suppress the laughter bubbling up well enough. He tries to cover it up with a fake cough to be safe, but Iwaizumi seemingly doesn’t care too much.

They walk side by side towards the intersection, where next to the parking lot, a smaller Wac is located. Sugawara feels inclined to initiate small talk – something about the weather, about how unbearably hot it has become the last week and how it’s even warmer downtown.

“It’s July after all,” Iwaizumi replies.

The conversation dies, leaving Sugawara in awkward silence. It’s not the first time he meets Iwaizumi, but it’s the first he is left alone with the best friend of his boyfriend. With Oikawa around Iwaizumi becomes animated – he speaks, mainly to mock or tease Oikawa. Sometimes he even smacks Oikawa in the head when he starts his theatrical act that Iwaizumi finds annoying and intolerable. Somehow, Sugawara finds it endearing, but he rarely steps in between them. Mostly, he just enjoys seeing Oikawa flustered and blushing, defenseless against the attacks of his childhood friend.

But as he enters to the restaurant following Iwaizumi, Sugawara has to realize that he has not only never been alone together with Iwaizumi – they never even had a conversation that was not in the presence of, or about Oikawa.

He feels suddenly disheartened, following the casually walking Iwaizumi without much of a plan.

Initially, Sugawara thought that it would be enough to meet Iwaizumi, the words will come on their own – but looking at Iwaizumi’s arms, the arch of his suntanned neck, the short spikes of his hair on his nape, Sugawara loses confidence with every step.

What if, he muses, his great habit of overthinking kicking in. What if Iwaizumi loves Oikawa not only as a friend? What if he is cold towards Sugawara because he–

“What will you get?”

Sugawara jumps as he hears Iwaizumi’s voice, deep and calm, coming from right beside his shoulder.

“Cheeseburger!” Sugawara replies instantly out of panic, voice a pitch too high.

“Cheeseburger and a Bic Wac,” Iwaizumi relates his order to the girl behind the counter. “Is coke good?” he looks back at Sugawara.

Sugawara can all but nod.

There’s something effortlessly intimidating in the sheer amount of manliness Iwaizumi emanates.

Either that, or he really dislikes Sugawara.

“Your order is ready,” the girl says, and Sugawara is not entirely sure how much time has passed since the last time he blinked. Not that it matters, since Iwaizumi didn’t blink either.

“Thanks,” the former ace of Seijou says, taking the tray without even looking at the girl. “Let’s find a table.”

Sugawara follows him without a word. There’s a bubble of unapproachable air fluttering around Iwaizumi, one that he’s afraid to just as much as scratch. He still opens his mouth when they settle at a table in the corner of the restaurant. He does, because no matter how frightened he feels of the possible wrath of Iwaizumi, he has an important mission.

He does it for Oikawa.

“Iwaizumi,” he says, crossing his arms in front of chest and leaning back in his seat to fake nonchalance and coolness. “It’s July.”

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi replies. “It’s hot. We already discussed this.”

“I’m thankful for the air conditioning,” Sugawara finds himself caught in Iwaizumi’s piercing blue eyes, forcing him off track. “But! This is not why I said it’s July.”

“Ok.”

“It’s Tooru’s birthday in two weeks. I plan to– I mean, it’s no pressure, but if you want to– I would like to ask for your help, actually,” he says. “I don’t really know the members of the Aoba Jousai team. I can’t really ask anyone else. You don’t have to if you don’t want, so don’t feel obliged to–”

“Good,” Iwaizumi cuts in, slurping his coke. “I’m in. It’s a surprise party I reckon?”

“Yes,” Sugawara sighs, and with the air he blows out his worries too.

Iwaizumi smiles at him – he seems relieved, his sharp glance warming.

Sugawara smiles back. He is not to be eaten alive.

“Honestly I was afraid you’d want to meet me to interrogate me,” Iwaizumi grins. “Either that, or complain about Oikawa.”

“Interrogate?” Sugawara asks back confused.

“I dunno– like what Oikawa likes. Or what is his favorite color. You know– what his exes were asking.”

“I’m not one of his exes,” Sugawara says, and he lets himself swallow back the urge to add ‘yet’. He doesn’t plan to break up with Oikawa, not in the foreseeable future. “We’ve been together for over half a year. If I didn’t know what to get him for his birthday at this point, I wouldn’t deserve to be called his boyfriend.”

“You see, you’re different,” Iwaizumi says. “He dated a few girls. None knew of his alien mania.”

“How could they avoid that?” Sugawara asks back, eyes wide and jaws dropped.

If something he has come across almost immediately, that was Oikawa’s keen interest in the extraterrestrial. It was basically what he said to Sugawara on their first starry night date – how _they are out there_.

“That’s the biggest mystery of the century,” Iwaizumi agrees, laughing. “You can barely shut him up once he starts talking about U.F.O sightings.”

“Oh, there’s one surefire way,” Sugawara says, tone teasing.

Iwaizumi sends him a disapproving look, followed by another laugh.

If ten minutes ago Sugawara found Iwaizumi intimidating, now he finds him dangerously charming again. If only Oikawa had better eyes – but Sugawara’s more than thankful for his boyfriend’s faulty radar. The fact that Oikawa Oikawa fell for him of all people never ceases to entertain Sugawara. Especially, for someone with such a looker for a best friend as Iwaizumi Hajime.

“I think those girls probably went out with him for his _dashing looks_ ,” Iwaizumi says, words pure mockery. “Like a nice new bag on their sides. Otherwise, who would date such an obnoxious guy?”

 “Me,” Sugawara lifts his hand with barely concealed pride. “Anyway, he’s not that obnoxious.”

“If you say so,” Iwaizumi smiles at Sugawara before he takes a bite of his sandwich. He meticulously minces the food inside his mouth before flushing it away with some coke. “I like you,” he says then, surprising Sugawara. “When Shittykawa first started talking about his favorite ‘Refreshing-kun’, I was a bit worried.”

“Do I seem threatening?” Sugawara asks.

“You do seem dangerous,” Iwaizumi admits. “Angelic face, mean serves? You’re not to be underestimated.”

“Thank you,” Sugawara nods, then, driven by his curiosity, he adds: “What did he speak about me, you have to tell.”

“What not? I doubt you didn’t notice that he is hard to shut up.”

“Oh, but I have to know. Am I on the same level as aliens, or volleyball, or on the same level as Kageyama?”

“Definitely not on the same level as Kageyama,” Iwaizumi assures.

Sugawara laughs again. As lost as he felt upon meeting Seijou’s former ace, he feels as comfortable now, leaning back in his chair. Iwaizumi laughs with him, waving his hand in denial as Sugawara attacks him with further questions.

“Am I on the same level as milk bread? Then what about Ushiwaka?”

“Don’t,” Iwaizumi pleads, and the hint of a tear glints in the corner of his eyes.

That’s when a tray different than theirs lands on their table.

As Sugawara looks up, he’s met with a rare expression of Oikawa Tooru – with jaws clenched, nostrils flared and eyes wide, Oikawa’s face is a mask of irritation. Behind him, stands a surprised Kindaichi, shifting his weight from one leg to another.

Sugawara’s first reaction is to feel sorry for the kid to get caught up in Oikawa’s antics – and only second is to worry for his secret scheme.

In his mind, Sugawara runs different scenarios on how to sell his little rendezvous with Iwaizumi to Oikawa in a way that it stays believable yet doesn’t risk the reveal of his plan of a surprise party. Sadly, he never needed this skill as much as Fukurodani’s Akaashi, to master it to a level that he can come up with alternative solutions within the fragment of a second, and Oikawa is way too fast to land his hand next to his tray with a sound that frightens away even the thoughts Sugawara managed to collect in this short period.

“Suga-chan? Iwa-chan?” he turns his head, excruciatingly slow, from one to another.

Lucky for Sugawara, Iwaizumi seems unfazed by the unveiling drama.

“Shittykawa,” he greets his childhood friend, moving over to the next seat and gesturing to the place next to him. “Care to sit? Or do you prefer Sugawara’s side? Kindachi, you too, don’t just stand there, come, sit down.”

Kindaichi jumps at the mention of his name, scooting over to the side of his former senpai, placing his tray – his hands trembling – to the table, sitting down beside Iwaizumi with back too straight and body too rigid.

Oikawa, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to be willing to move an inch from where he perched himself over the table and between the two.

“The two of you together?” he asks, sucking on his lower lip as he waits for the reply.

“Why? Jealous?” Iwaizumi asks, leaning back in his chair.

Oikawa’s hand curls into a fist on the table, eyeing his childhood friend with deep rooted grudge. Kindaichi seems to be working hard on suppressing a squeal.

“Oh come on, how could Tooru be jealous?” Sugawara comes in, laughing awkwardly. His brain doesn’t seem to cooperate with him working on a plausible excuse.

“Oh, you don’t know, Sugawara?” Iwaizumi asks back. “Never once with his girlfriends he was like this, but he seems to go crazy every time you go somewhere with your Captain-kun…”

“Daichi?”

“Iwa-chan, shut up.”

Oikawa reaches down, picking up his burger and soda to place it on Sugawara’s tray, pushing his own tray underneath. Then, quite unceremoniously for a Grand King, he plops down in the lap of Sugawara, who was just about to make space for him.

“Beautiful, Shittykawa. Splendid. Spectacular,” Iwaizumi comments as Sugawara groans under the weight of his boyfriend.

“What.”

“You behave like a kindergartener.”

“So what.”

“At least don’t crush poor Sugawara.”

“I’m fine,” Sugawara tries to mollify the argument between the two childhood friends, reaching out to scratch the baby hairs on Oikawa’s nape. His hair is just too soft to miss such a golden opportunity when it presents itself.

“Hn,” Oikawa purrs into the touch, then, regaining his sense he croaks his throat and slips off of Suga onto the seat. He still sits so close to Sugawara that their thighs are basically squeezed up against each other, not a millimeter left between them.

“So you’re jealous,” Sugawara comments with a laugh playing on his lips while he continues to scratch Oikawa behind his ear. Then, hooking his finger under the jawline of the idiot he calls his boyfriend, Sugawara presses a light peck on Oikawa’s cheek. “That’s adorable.”

“But don’t overdo it,” Iwaizumi comments, dropping a piece of fries in his open lips. “You frighten the kouhai.”

At this, all three pairs of eyes fix on Kindaichi, who sits there as the unfinished statue of a freshman sculptor student, little square-shaped and very discouraged. Even the tip of his ice cream melts, bending on one side sadly.

“Oh,” Oikawa says, as if he just remembered why he entered the restaurant in the first place. He stretches in his seat, seemingly to lean closer to Kindaichi, yet he manages somehow to squirm deeper into the touch of Sugawara at the same time. Sugawara, who knows the drill quite well after more than six months together, continues to play with his boyfriend’s hair, drawing twirls across his scalp. “Sorry Kindaichi, you wanted to ask for advice related to volleyball,” Oikawa continues. “I’m sure Iwa-chan and Suga-chan wouldn’t mind to help too.”

“If we can,” Sugawara assures with a smile.

The rest of their meal goes without a hitch – they each share some tips and tricks with the now second year boy who feels overshadowed by the team’s new ace, Kyoutani.

“I’m surprised how well Yahaba-chan keeps Mad Dog-chan in control,” Oikawa says, once they finish their meals.

“He keeps him on short leash,” Iwaizumi replies, collecting their trays to take it before the suddenly overeager Kindaichi could, and takes it to the returning point.

“I think Kyoutani is afraid of Yahaba-san,” Kindaichi comments.

“Interesting,” Oikawa muses.

They leave the restaurant, each going their own direction.

As Iwaizumi waves them goodbye, Sugawara can’t help but notice the sign Iwaizumi’s waving hand is folded into – it’s one of his own signs, that he’s been using during the few informal matches they have organized between themselves during the weekends. It’s the sign for a time difference attack. Sugawara takes it as a sign that Iwaizumi will contact him later to work out the details for the party. He may mistake it – worst case scenario, Sugawara will contact Iwaizumi again. Understood or not, the sign still warms his heart – it’s Iwaizumi accepting him as a setter and maybe also as a friend.

Oikawa goes silent for a bit after he waved goodbye to Iwaizumi; only after the former ace disappears behind a corner Oikawa reaches out to Sugawara, grabbing his hand firmly.

“Don’t you think I’ve forgotten what I’ve seen,” he says quietly.

“What did you see?” Sugawara asks back.

“You and Iwa-chan, laughing adoringly at each other.”

“Ah. If this helps, the topic was you.”

“It doesn’t help!” Oikawa snaps, running a thumb against the hand of Sugawara irritated. “Why did the two of you meet? What did you talk about?”

“You’re a clever kid, Tooru,” Sugawara sighs, stepping close to raise on his tiptoes. “Make a guess,” he whispers to Oikawa’s ear, lips teasingly grazing his earlobe.

For a second, Oikawa stands dumb, face scrunched up as he thinks hard. Then, as he reaches his conclusion, his face lights up, wide grin spreading from ear to ear.

“You’re organizing a party, don’t you?” he asks.

“I’m not saying anything,” Sugawara shrugs. “No. Don’t pout. I won’t say a thing.”

“Please?” Oikawa flutters his lashes.

“It won’t work,” Sugawara says. “On another note. What is your opinion on muscles?”

“They are needed to move, so you ought to take good care of them.”

“No I mean– something buff, like Iwaizumi…”

“You took a liking to Iwa-chan?”

“Well, his arms certainly look…”

“No,” Oikawa cuts in, shaking his head vehemently. “It’s impossible. Sorry, Suga-chan, but no matter what, my physique is different from Iwa-chan’s, so I won’t have such guns.”

“I thought of myself,” Sugawara replies. “Working out a little. See if I can grow some muscle. Would you be against it? Would you like it?”

“A buff Suga-chan? Can’t imagine.”

“You make me want to try even harder now.”


	6. Nicknames

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome to my comfort zone! This is a little something before the last chapter, a little introspect of Oikawa, as this whole thing has been told from Suga's pov so far.
> 
> And also, chapter 7 will be a little angsty, so I wanted a bit of fluff before.

 

 _Refreshing-kun_ was an adversary. An experienced, reliable setter. A sharp player with good game sense, who could understand the flow of the game in an instant, and had the precision and ruthlessness to aim his serves directly at the weakest spot of the enemy team. He was someone with solid plays, and even if he could be read easily for his tendency to rely on his ace on the left, he could still bear a surprise, attacking on his own from his libero’s setup.

Refreshing-kun was the semi-popular type. Oikawa always found it convenient, for people like Refreshing-kun to get by; contrary to Oikawa, whose good looks and eccentric personality divided his audience, the semi-popular type was equal times easy on the eyes and easy to talk to. This type was easy-going enough to become the mood-setter in a group, but also kind and reserved not to become overbearing. Refreshing-kun seemed to be the trustworthy type, someone his friends could rely on. Oikawa found Refreshing-kun to be the type he hated the most – the one, whose faults are hard to find.

Refreshing-kun may, or may not have dated the manager of his team. She was a beauty way above his standards, but he was the semi-popular type after all. He had good looks. A fresh smile. He seemed to be easy to talk to. So for a shy beauty like their manager, he may have been someone easily approachable.

Refreshing-kun was someone Oikawa kept thinking about. He couldn’t help but imagine himself in the shoes of Refreshing-kun – being replaced by a first year, let alone Tobio, in his final year of school. He tried to understand that smile Refreshing-kun wore whenever he stepped on court. Was it fake? It seemed genuine. He might have been a good actor. He seemed to work well together with Tobio, their steps falling into pace as they switched positions, Refreshing-kun setting effortlessly for Tobio-chan for a quick attack.

Refreshing-kun was someone who piqued Oikawa’s interest. He was always balancing on that fine line between familiar and surprising that made him a riddle in Oikawa’s eyes. Every time he seemed to crack the code and finally wrote him down – as the semi-popular, the composed one, the mood maker, the reliable but kinda boring one – Refreshing-kun just had to do something new, something unpredicted.

 _Sugasomething_ appeared in Oikawa’s head as a forceful and unstoppable force he say the setter run up for a synchronized attack after he has just been shut down by Tendou. Oikawa swore silently that he didn’t take the pamphlet – oh, he knew these teams, he knew them all too well – but this was the fifth set of the Karasuno-Shiratorizawa match, and this was a dethroned setter overthrown by Kageyama, and he was smiling and high fiving his teammates down on the court while Oikawa’s heart invented a brand new rhythm up in the last raw of the spectators’ seats.

 _Sugawara Koushi_ was a man with dignity. With insecurities. With screwed winks. Or was it that those winks were screwing Oikawa up? He didn’t really recall the moment he had himself so fired up he actually took that bus to Karasuno. He only knew that Sugawara Koushi has an unparalleled charm, and he was weak against it.

Sugawara Koushi agreed to go on a date with him. Laughed at his jokes. He would keep his distance, but never outright rejected Oikawa’s advances. Sugawara Koushi reached out and held his hand.

 _Suga-chan_. Well, he is Suga-chan. He is lively, except for when he’s sleep deprived and overly exhausted. He cooks the world’s spiciest abominations in the kitchen, calling his hellfire curry. He sleeps hogging all the blankets, only to end up splayed on top of them by the morning.

Suga-chan can be a pain in the butt. But Oikawa never loved anyone so much before.

 

///

 

 _The Grand King_ was Kageyama’s senpai, a fearsome opponent, someone way above Sugawara’s level. Sugawara watched him play from the sidelines, only swooning whenever the king touched the ball, and on some occasions even after that. His form was perfection itself, elegant and cruel, relentless and brilliant. His talent and tenacity was something Sugawara could only dream about. It was only logical that his stupid face was equally beautiful as his play. Not that Sugawara minded it; he would have gladly submitted himself under his reign.

 _Oikawa_ was arrogant, childish and uncontrollably clueless off court. He would march in Sugawara’s life on a whim. He would work hard to stay there.

 _Tooru_ is a big kid. He’s not high maintenance every day – just every other one. But Sugawara can no longer imagine his mornings without him.


	7. Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand this is the end! I have a bit of a writer's block, so this chapter I found extremely hard to write... still, I hope you will enjoy it!^^

When Sakusa Kiyoomi’s name flashes up on his phone, Sugawara feels an immediate uneasiness settling in his stomach. To receive a phone call from the former ace of Itachiyama, one of the three top aces in their school years, would be an honor, if not for the fact that Sakusa Kiyoomi does not simply make phone calls – as phone calls imply close contact with phones, and phones, as everyone knows, are dirty. For the germophobe like Sakusa, this must count a desperate measure.

And it makes Sugawara worry – because out of the members of the pro team Oikawa joined, Sakusa was the one Sugawara spoke with the least.

“Hello?” Sugawara takes the phone, halfway already standing from his chair.

“Sugawara-san,” comes the quiet voice of the wing spiker. “I think you should come.”

“Where?”

“Tokyo Metropolitan Hospital.”

 

///

 

“If you want to say I said so, don’t,” Oikawa says instead of a greeting when Sugawara arrives to the hospital half an hour later.

Sitting on a bed in one of the examination rooms, Oikawa’s still wearing his volleyball uniform. His right knee, freed from the knee supporter and swelled to twice its size, twists in an uncomfortable angle.

Sugawara wants to say ‘I said so’ more than ever – more than on the sleepless nights, he spent turning in their empty bed, waiting for Oikawa to stop re-watching his matches over and over again, until he has analyzed the last millisecond of it, more than on the sloppy mornings that found him all alone in bed, Oikawa already running restless               rounds around the park near their apartment block. It was Sugawara’s eternal struggle, his tilting at windmills that never came to fruition. He has gotten tired of it.

Just as he was unable to ever grow muscles like Iwaizumi, he was unable to get the better of Oikawa and stop him in his self-destructive pursuit of a dream.

Maybe, Sugawara thinks to himself cynically, if only he could grow those buff muscles, he could have beat some sense into Oikawa. Maybe the approach of silent caring and soft grumbling was not the right one.

Maybe it’s all his fault, for Oikawa to tear a tendon like that. Maybe it’s the sick joke of the universe, wouldn’t be the first one.

Maybe he should say ‘I said so.’

“Congratulations, you overworked yourself,” Sugawara says instead.

“I did,” Oikawa hisses in reply, eyes darkening ever so slightly. “You happy?”

Sugawara sends him a disappointed look. Shrugging, he lifts his eyes, silently motioning towards Oikawa’s teammates to leave.

They don’t need much of encouragement. Sakusa’s already trembling just from the thought of being in a hospital with sick people around while Terushima seems to be suffocating on the tension in the room. So when Sugawara glances over them, and Yaku starts herding them out towards the park, they all line up by the door without a word of resistance.

The doctor out, looking for the timetable to schedule Oikawa’s surgery, and Oikawa’s teammates slowly leaving, silence falls onto the room. Sugawara waits until there’s no one else in the examination room before he proceeds to walk to the bed and sit beside Oikawa.

They sit an inch apart, with Oikawa’s injured leg laying between them like a barrier. Oikawa rests his hand on his thigh, toned and clad in short volleyball shorts, pressing down on his muscles whenever pain kicks in. Sugawara follows it with his eyes, fingers flexing, relaxing, trembling ever so slightly. He rests his own hand atop his own thigh, pale skin in stark contrast with his dark jeans.

The silence eats the sounds of the hospital on the other side of the door, muffling them into an undecipherable mess of white noise. The only distinct sound in the room is the muted ticking of the wall clock, growing onto them in the silence, becoming louder and louder, harsher and harsher in Sugawara’s ears.

The silence rises between them as if it had a physical body, separating and distancing them with every passing second.

Oikawa avoids Sugawara’s gaze, eyeing the salonpas ad on the wall intently.

Sugawara can see goosebumps raise in between the soft baby hair sticking up on Oikawa’s nape. He can see Oikawa’s hand flying up to scratch the side of his neck, he can see the frown on Oikawa’s lips and the sneaky side glance Oikawa sends in his direction. All the telltale signs of frustration, maybe a little worry, some confusion, and _regret_. So much regret squeezed into that short, shifty peek towards Sugawara.

He can read Oikawa like a book by now.

Some days he wishes he couldn’t – when Oikawa lies. When he says he was not out running in the rain. When he says he slept early. When he says he’s not in pain. It would be easier, being ignorant, than to be a witness to it all with no power in his hands to stop Oikawa’s self-destruction. But Sugawara loves Oikawa too much to turn a blind eye and unlearn how to read him – he wants to know it all, even if he gets hurt in the process.

Sugawara takes a deep breath, readying his tone to be soft, soft but not soothing. Calm but not without weight.

“What makes you think that it would make me happy to know that you injured yourself?” he asks, pointing his look at Oikawa.

Oikawa flinches visibly, pulling his shoulder up ever so slightly in defense. He blinks, but his eyes don’t shift from the ad on the wall.

“Do I seem to be the type who laughs at others’ pain? Did I give off this vibe? Is this how you know me?” Sugawara pushes on, all quiet but not without an edge.

The clock ticks away, Oikawa’s breath hitches in the silence.

“I don’t remember an instance I gave you reason to believe I would be malicious,” Sugawara says. “Not once in the past four years.”

“You didn’t,” Oikawa murmurs barely audible.

“Then what?”

“I’m– not angry at you, I’m angry at myself.”

“That’s good, because I’m also angry at you.”

“Kou-chan,” Oikawa turns towards Sugawara finally, lips trembling in a pout.

“Don’t _Kou-chan_ me.”

“You have to understand. I received a contract for one year in the pro league. One year.”

“No I don’t understand.”

“This is my only chance.”

“Bullshit, Tooru, and you know it just as well as me,” Sugawara says, and just then he finally crosses the one inch between them to hold Oikawa’s hand. “The Oikawa Tooru I know would say things like ‘my time definitely come’ with unparalleled conviction, without a hint of panic or a sign to crumble under stress.”

“The Oikawa Tooru you know also said ‘hit it until it breaks’ to the press,” Oikawa says, sighing. “Don’t say you don’t remember; you have that article plastered over the fridge.”

“It’s supposed to be a form of deterrence, not a cheer for you to actually break something. Especially not yourself.”

“The damage is done,” Oikawa replies, shrugging helplessly.

“It’s not unrepairable,” Sugawara says as he runs his thumb along the curve of Oikawa’s palm.

“The doctor said that it may take a year or longer to return to competitive sport.”

“The doctor’s right. But you will survive.”

“But will my career?” Oikawa asks, grabbing onto Sugawara’s hand to stop it in its motion.

“Today, your team won against Ushiwaka’s.”

“You say it as if it was a feat you didn’t already accomplish by age 18.”

“I did little to…” Sugawara starts, but he comes to a halt suddenly. “No, wait. I’m not saying that it’s all good if your career ends here and now because you’ve finally managed to beat Ushiwaka,” he says, reaching out with his free hand to cup the face of Oikawa. “I meant to say it as encouragement. This is only your beginning. Your volleyball is beautiful. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and I’m not ready to give up on it. So don’t you dare to give up on it either.”

“But my contract is only for this one year–”

“Yeah. And so thousands of other people’s.”

“Kou-chan–”

“No.”

“Won’t you listen?”

“I’m not willing to,” Sugawara says, a soft smile sneaking up onto his lips. “You’re devaluing yourself way too much, Tooru. You’re one of the best players Japan has today.”

“I was never even invited to the national team, and I get injured before I could make my mark–”

“That last serve you did was amazing, even if the landing was way awkward,” Sugawara says. He doesn’t necessarily cut in the words of Oikawa, which come shabby and panicked, he just speaks as soon as Oikawa is out of air. He wants, more than anything, to sooth Oikawa’s thoughts, and to kick his confidence issues – with a little bit of coercion, firstly, but quite literally too if needed. “I watched the recap while on my way here, and let me tell you, I was mesmerized and I was not the only one. The commentators were basically screaming. Ushiwaka has complimented your technique on national television and sent you his best wishes for a speedy recovery.”

“Ew.”

“What I want to say is. You didn’t waste your chance,” Sugawara says pointedly, ignoring the disgusted faces Oikawa makes at the mention of Ushijima Wakatoshi. “You’re good. You’re the best setter in the league.”

“Give Tobio-chan a year to join and–”

“Oikawa,” Sugawara says, plastering his free hand over Oikawa’s mouth.

“Hmpf.”

“Shhh,” Sugawara hums leaning close and leaving a small peck on the temple of Oikawa. “Listen, for once.”

He waits, until Oikawa stops grimacing, then drops his hand to Oikawa’s shoulder gently.

“You convinced me,” Sugawara says, voice barely a whisper. “Back when I was hurt and insecure, you went out of your way to prove yourself to me and to convince me. So please. Let me convince you this time. Let my words be heard in that stubborn head of yours.”

Oikawa squints suspiciously, and Sugawara lets him to search his face for signs of whatever Oikawa is looking for. He’s honest, and he wants Oikawa to understand it too.

“You’re great. You’re doing great, and your talent is recognized by many. Please, don’t break yourself thinking you have to work harder to be able to stay where you are. You have already proven your skills. Your team loves you. They want you to stay. So please, take care of yourself. Prove them that you want to stay too by recovering fully, without rushing back half-healed just to be there. I will be by your side, no matter how much time or attention you need,” Sugawara gives Oikawa’s hand a little squeeze. “And the nationals? It will come eventually. You’re popular.”

“You say it as if it was a sin,” Oikawa says, a rare soft, shy smile appearing on his lips.

“Isn’t it?” Suagwara asks back, arching a brow.

Oikawa snorts, looking at his boyfriend’s grimace, laughter shaking his entire body, only to flinch painfully right afterwards.

“Torn tendons heal slowly,” Sugawara says, looking at the swelling. “How much easier it would’ve been if only you listened…”

“You can say ‘I said so’ you know.”

“Nah, I don’t want to,” Sugawara shakes his head, then leans on the shoulder of Oikawa. “I just want to convince you.”

“It must be a hard job,” Oikawa agrees.

“You’re good the way you are, Tooru.”

“No, I’m not,” Oikawa says, lifting a hand to pat the soft hair of Sugawara. “I still owe you an apology.”

“Accepted,” Sugawara murmurs into his shoulder. “On the condition that you don’t overdo it ever again.”

“I can’t make such a promise half-heartedly,” Oikawa says. “But I can promise that I will try?”

Sugawara lifts his head and gives him a long look. Oikawa’s ears come dusted with pink under his gaze.

“Will you?”

“I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking with me until the end of this nonsensical drabble sequence.


End file.
